


I’ll have what he’s having

by ILoveFANFic



Series: Kiss it better [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Castiel (Supernatural), Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Use Their Words, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel does NOT cheat on Dean, Dean and Castiel are Boyfriends, Dean and Castiel have an argument, Dean gives Samandriel a piece of his mind, Dirty Talk, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Even tho Samandriel would really like that, Flirty Samandriel, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Humor, I was told to add the tag humor, Jealous Dean Winchester, Jealousy, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Marking, Oblivious Castiel (Supernatural), Older Dean and Castiel, POV Dean, POV Dean Winchester, Pissed Dean, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Dean Winchester, Smut, So here goes lol, Steamy and sweet, They are around 30, Top Dean Winchester, Twink Samandriel (Supernatural), make-up sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26792068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILoveFANFic/pseuds/ILoveFANFic
Summary: Cas loves going to his favorite café with his boyfriend Dean every day.Samandriel loves hitting on his favorite customer, Mr. Novak, whenever he gets to serve him his morning coffee or afternoon tea and pretending his boyfriend – who unfortunately always comes along – doesn’t even exist.Dean is very much not amused.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Kiss it better [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1963789
Comments: 24
Kudos: 264





	I’ll have what he’s having

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this fic comes from my dear friend Zation playing with a prompt generator one day and getting the following prompt: Dean burns his tongue on something hot, Castiel kisses it better.
> 
> Now, since I clearly suck at taking prompts, the idea got twisted enough to become a one shot about twink!Samandriel hitting on Cas and jealous!Dean reminding everyone who Cas belongs to ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Also, it was originally meant to be angry sex, but then feelings crept into my porn and blame these two, OK? I wanted them to have steamy make-up sex but they wanted to be all lovey dovey and I was left to write that. Damn unruly characters 😩
> 
> Please enjoy Cas being an oblivious little bean and Dean being anything but oblivious lol
> 
> As usual, please feel free to come chat with me in the comments if you feel so inclined 😘

Dean's been too quick to make fun of his boyfriend.

Not that he’s _ever_ going to say that out loud, but Cas was totally right. When you hit the 30 year old mark, little things that were amusing before start getting worrisome and more than a little annoying.

Misplacing your keys and not remembering where the heck you put them, forgetting about an engagement you yourself had suggested in the first place, having a hell of a hard time falling asleep if you eat too much sugar at dinner.

When you're 29, those things get chalked up to you being tired, or stressed, or needing a break. When you hit 30, they become signs you're getting _old_.

When his now 34 year old boyfriend told him four years ago, Dean basically laughed at him and told him to shut up, and then, because he's a good, supportive and understanding boyfriend like that, proceeded to call him “old man” until Cas threatened to withhold sex indefinitely if he didn't stop. Naturally, Dean stopped right away. He mourned the fact that no one, not even the love of his life, was able to fully appreciate his absolutely hilarious sense of humor. But that wasn't such a primary concern of his that he was ready to die on that hill. Especially if that meant he wouldn't get to fuck Cas or be fucked by him for who knows how long. His boyfriend's dick and ass were just too delicious to risk that.

Now though, a couple of months after his own 30th birthday, Dean realizes how right Cas was back then.

Nothing, however, absolutely _nothing_ is worse than being called 'Sir' by 20 somethings. That‘s started to happen more and more frequently and Dean feels like an ancient Egyptian relic every time. Especially as, while Dean is still in that limbo between baby face and grown up, his gorgeous boyfriend has officially joined the salt and pepper club, and him becoming a total Daddy was apparently included in the membership. He's exactly the kind of mature and still totally in shape man Dean himself would have drooled over when he was barely legal.

Logically, Dean knows all of this, and that's why he shouldn't want to put his hands around Samandriel's throat and squeeze until his eyes roll back in his skull every time he sees the kid.

He should be understanding. Because he’s aware that he’s a little sensitive right now and also that he'd be on Cas like white on rice too, if he was in the kid's shoes.

The problem is, Dean is not in Samandriel's shoes. Dean is in Dean's shoes. The shoes of a 30 year old man who's recently started to feel not so young anymore, and to second guess his hotness level as a result, who has to sit and watch the admittedly good looking twink waiter of the cafè Cas insists on having breakfast or afternoon tea at _every damn day_ hit on his boyfriend every chance he gets.

“Hello, Mr. Novak, how good to see you", "What can I do for you today, Mr. Novak?", "Is there anything new you feel inspired to try today, Mr. Novak?", "I _love_ that shirt, Mr. Novak, it totally makes your eyes pop!". Needless to say, a sweet, demure smile always accompanies his verbal innuendoes.

By contrast, Samandriel's attitude toward Dean consists of polite indifference, if not outright hostile looks, and "What can I get yous".

To someone who’s not paying attention, Samandriel would appear like the picture perfect image of innocence when interacting with Cas, and of detached professionalism when interacting with Dean.

Dean, however, is paying attention.

On the contrary, Cas – sweet, oblivious Cas – doesn't even see it and downplays the whole thing whenever Dean tries to talk to him about it or, God forbid, suggests they should find a different café.

"They have all the organic products I like, a lot of interesting menu choices and reasonable prices, Dean. Samandriel's just a polite, hard-working young man who knows his revenues depend on tips more than anything."

"Then why doesn't he behave like that with me too?"

"Because, Dean, politeness calls politeness. If you didn't behave like a grumpy bear and tried smiling at the kid for a change, maybe he'd relax around you too."

The argument’s getting very old and tedious very fast, the only choice left to Dean being making sure Cas never goes there without him and glaring at Samandriel whenever Cas is distracted. And the damn kid has the guts to glare back. Dean totally knows his endgame, Samandriel knows that Dean knows, yet he's nothing if not persistent. If the whole ruse wasn't about the most important person in Dean's life, he would honestly appreciate the kid's perseverance and clearly excellent taste. As it is, Dean needs to restrain himself from punching the smug smirk Samandriel gets whenever Cas smiles sweetly back at him or compliments his work ethics or some equally annoying shit. Cas is just too good for this world and doesn't realize he's the damn exception and not the rule.

Worst of all is that, the longer the whole thing goes on, the smugger and more daring in his appreciation the kid gets, and the sulkier and insecure Dean becomes, both of his ability to still being able to entice his amazing boyfriend and of the strength of their relationship. Because the thing is, there is a reason the kid is getting smugger. Is it really possible that Cas doesn’t see? Doesn’t he have even the tiniest suspicion? And if he does, shouldn’t he, like, put a stop to it? Or, you know, shouldn’t it be enough for Dean to have expressed his concerns for Cas to listen, even if he thinks Dean’s being a little crazy?

But no, Cas wouldn’t do that to him. Cas would never do that to him. Cas loves him. For some reason, Cas loves Dean unconditionally, just the way he is, good and bad and worse. They’ve been together for years now and it won’t be a perky twink ass to get between them. No matter how much perkier that ass is than Dean’s. Dean’s ass isn’t half bad either, ok? It’s just...no longer a 20 year old ass. But, as 30 year old asses go, Dean’s an A+ one, if Dean says so himself.

No. Cas is just...being Cas – kind, sweet, polite, genuine, always ready to give others the benefit of the doubt and appreciate hard working people – and Samandriel is a kid with a huge crush who’s being a little slut and taking advantage of Cas’s good-hearted soul.

‘Right, so keep your cool, Winchester. Just go out there, have a coffee while your boyfriend has his posh afternoon tea, then drag him home and do wicked things to him.’ Nodding to himself in the mirror is probably a new low in Dean’s life, but his mental pep talk actually helped and he feels like he can leave the restroom and go back to their table without being tempted to take a detour to the kitchen and strangle the kid on his way back to Cas.

That plan disintegrates as soon as he steps out and takes in the scene unfolding not ten feet away from him: Cas with a hand in front of his mouth and Samandriel fussing over him.

“I’m so sorry, Mister Novak, I don’t know how that might have happened!”

“Don’t worry about it, Samandriel, accidents happen,” comes Cas’s reply, his words and voice a bit strained.

“Of course I worry! I hate that you got hurt because the water for your tea was hotter than it should be!”

“It’s alright-“

“You know, if you wanted, I’d be happy to kiss it better,” the kid _dares_ to say. Out loud. To a man who‘s clearly taken. By _Dean_.

Cas’s stunned face barely has time to register that Dean’s already marching toward their table.

“If someone has a right to kiss it better, _Samandriel_ , that’d be me,” Dean spits before he all but hauls Cas up with a hand on his neck and pushes his tongue in his boyfriend’s mouth, giving the kid a show of their tongues sliding against each other that has Cas moaning into the kiss. It might very well be from pain, Dean thinks distractedly, since Cas has clearly burned his tongue, but Dean’s too livid to give a fuck about that right now and he’s pretty sure his boyfriend will live.

“Go wait in the car, Cas,” Dean orders after breaking the kiss.

“Dean-“

“Go Cas, _now_.”

Cas fucking shivers at hearing the commanding tone. ‘Good,’ Dean thinks, ‘because I’m fucking you as soon as we get home and I will _not_ be gentle about it.’

“Yes, Dean,” Cas says before walking out without so much as sparing a look for the kid.

As soon as he’s gone, Dean rounds on Samandriel, who is just standing there, wide eyed and worried all of a sudden.

“Listen, you little shit,” Dean starts, and boy does it feel _good_ to finally say what he’s been thinking for so long. “If you think that you can flaunt your twink ass in front of my boyfriend and he’ll just take it, you’re in for a heartbreak. Cas would _never_ cheat on me.” No, he would never. Dean already knew that, in spite of what his own insecurities have led him to think for a minute there, but Cas’s shocked expression earlier only confirmed it.

“And I understand the attraction,” Dean continues. “Hell, if someone can, that’s _me_ ,” he adds with a bitter laugh. “He’s a smoldering motherfucker and doesn’t even see it, which makes him even hotter. But trying to get your paws on someone who’s already _taken_ when you _know it_ is a _shitty_ thing to do. So _stop it_ , because next time you do something like that, I won’t be so rational about it.”

He must sound and look as furious as he feels, because the kid appears just about ready to shit himself. Dean can’t say he’s not feeling a perverse satisfaction at seeing Samandriel taken down 25 notches, _finally_. He’s probably just learned the meaning of ‘You reap what you sow’.

Dean steps away from him then, throws a twenty on the table and says “Keep the change,” before turning around and leaving this place, possibly for good.

He’s still pretty much seeing red when he sits behind the wheel of his car.

“Dean, I’m so so-”

“Shut up Cas. I don’t wanna hear a word coming out of your mouth right now,” he interrupts, still too angry about the whole thing to be able to be a goddamn adult about it.

Cas’s gasp is all Dean hears in response and he knows just from that how surprised, and possibly hurt, Cas must be, but he doesn’t give a shit, _can’t_ give a shit, because he’s had to just sit back and deal with someone else flirting with his boyfriend for _weeks_ , and when he tried to tell Cas he _dismissed_ him, and he was fucking right instead, and his frustration and insecurities and jealousy are mixing with anger and the whole recipe is reaching its boiling point and he’s just too furious to do anything but grip the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white and think ‘I’ve been fucking right from the fucking start’ on a loop.

He’s barely put the car in park that he’s already throwing the door open and slamming it shut behind him. He storms inside their house without even turning around to make sure Cas is following. He _knows_ he is.

He doesn’t pause or stop anywhere, heading straight for their bedroom. _Their_ bedroom. That they share. Because they’re a fucking item. And no one, _no one,_ can get in between them. Dean won’t allow it.

“Dean-“

“I told you!” Dean screams in Cas’s face, uncaring of how loud he’s being. He’s _pissed_.

“I know,” Cas replies, his expression distraught, his eyes pleading.

“But you didn’t listen,” Dean presses.

“I’m sorry,” Cas’s eyes drop to the floor.

“Did you like it?” Cas’s head snaps up, his eyes wide, alarmed. “Is that it? Why you let it go on this long?”

“What?! No! I-“

“No? You tryna tell me you didn’t like having a pretty twink openly flirting with you like that?”

“Dean, no, I could never-,”

Cas takes a step toward Dean and Dean takes a step back. He needs the distance right now.

“No? Then why did you dismiss me like that, _every time_ I told you, eh? You sure you weren’t considering taking a shiny new model for a spin? He certainly is what I no longer am.”

Cas’s face is getting more and more incredulous and concerned but Dean just can’t stop, all the anger at the kid’s _fucking nerve_ and his insecurities and the frustration of the past weeks bubbling up, and he’s powerless to stop them, he doesn’t even want to, because he’s pissed and hurt and logically he knows Cas wouldn’t cheat on him but he has to make sure.

“You’re not tired of driving the same old car over and over again? It’s reliable, sure, but it isn’t as exciting as it used to be and-“

“Stop talking about yourself, about _us_ , like that!” Cas’s raised voice interrupts, any trace of guilt replaced by stormy anger. “You’re everything to me!”

“Then why-“

“Because even after you told me, I kept finding the whole thing laughable!” Cas screams, getting in Dean’s face and clutching the lapels of his jacket between his closed fists. “He could almost be our child and I thought you _knew_ there’s no one I’d be with that’s not you!”

Cas’s head drops slightly then and his shoulders rise as he takes a breath. “How can I even look at someone else,” he asks, his voice back to its normal tone and his eyes searching Dean’s, “when the most beautiful soul, mind, face and body in the world already belong to me, and I to him?”

Something inside of Dean softens, the wall of fury starting to crack.

Cas sees it, of course he does, and he takes the opportunity to get even closer and brush his lips against Dean’s. “Tell me, Dean, please. I know you’re angry, you have every right, I should have listened, I’m so sorry, and I’ll make it up to you however you want, my love. But please tell me I’m still yours,” Cas pleads. “I-, I need to be yours, Dean, always.”

“You still want to? Be mine?”

“ _Of course,_ ” Cas replies right away, pain in his eyes, “Dean, I-“

“Then take off your clothes and lie face down on the bed,” Dean says, no longer screaming, but with a coldness in his voice that’s usually not there.

Dean’s still reeling – furious, hurt, confused, uncertain. He doesn’t even know what the fuck he’s feeling right now, couldn’t say which emotion is stronger if they paid him. He can’t keep talking, he needs to _feel_.

Cas looks at him like he sometimes does, almost as if he‘s trying to get inside Dean’s soul. Clearly finding what he’s looking for, he releases his grip on Dean’s jacket and steps back, immediately starting to shed his clothes.

Dean watches him. Cas has no shame whatsoever stripping in front of Dean. He’s not in a hurry either, even though he’s not putting up a show. He’s taking off one piece of clothing after the other and letting them drop on the floor around him, eyes never leaving Dean, gradually revealing his tan, strong, lean, perfect body, offering himself to his boyfriend without holding anything back. When he’s down to his boxer briefs, he just push them down enough that they slide the rest of the way to the floor and just steps out of them once they’ve pooled around his ankles.

He’s soft. So is Dean, for that matter.

This is not about excitement. This is about reconnecting. About getting close to each other when words fail and reminding each other that nothing else feels like coming home as when they get physically intimate.

Something _no one_ has done with either of them except for the other person in the room for _years_.

After a few moments of just standing there buck naked while Dean is still fully clothed, Cas turns around and goes to sit on his side of the bed. He then lies down, face on his pillow like Dean asked, takes a breath and relaxes against the mattress, waiting.

“I’ll make it up to you however you want, my love” Cas told him earlier. That’s what he’s doing now. He’s putting the ball in Dean’s court. ‘You go ahead and do what you need, my love’, his silent compliance is saying. Cas knows Dean, he knows Dean would never hurt him, not even in the heat of the moment, not even angry and offended and hurt and blindly jealous as he is now. Back at the café he had a moment when he envisioned just slamming Cas against the wall and fucking him brutally, not even taking the time to open him up, forcing him to feel who he belongs to for days. He now shudders at the thought. He could never do that to his love.

That he asked Cas to face away from him is already a big deviation from what he usually prefers. Dean usually loves to look at Cas’s face. He especially loves to see the expression he gets when Dean breaches him, that one moment of pain/pleasure that quickly morphs into bliss whenever Dean enters him. He loves kissing Cas’s lips the whole time when they fuck too, he’s addicted to those lips and that tongue and he can never get enough.

But today, today Dean needs to _not_ see Cas’s face. He doesn’t need to be reminded of every smile he’s gifted the smarmy kid with, while Dean was sitting next to him, watching the display and feeling mocked and powerless. He needs to lose himself in the rest of his boyfriend’s body, which has always only belonged to him ever since they started dating. His muscled back, his toned arms, his big hands, his broad shoulders, his soft hair smelling of his citrusy shampoo – a scent that makes Dean feel content and calm instantly after so many years – his strong thighs, his round, perfect, tight ass, which always opens up for Dean and welcomes him home.

So he starts getting rid of his own clothes much like Castiel did. In no hurry, one piece after the other, while never taking his gaze away from the sight in front of him, the display of complete trust of his naked boyfriend on their bed – _their_ bed – giving himself up to him and ready to accept whatever Dean will see fit to give him, knowing, as he does, that it will never be more than he can take.

Cas isn’t tense, he’s not stealing glances over his shoulder, not breathing heavily. He seems almost serene, like there is no other place he’d rather be.

Once naked, Dean grabs the lube from his nightstand and gets on the bed, sliding within the V of Cas’s slightly parted legs from the foot of the bed.

He pours some lube on his fingers, warms it a bit and starts circling Cas’s hole, while his other hand goes to trace small soothing circles on his lower back. Cas tenses briefly then, but Dean knows it’s from the cold of the lube. He relaxes immediately and Dean pushes a first finger inside. The sigh Cas releases can only be described as relief. Dean knows he’s sorry and he feels guilty, so he’s not surprised that he’s sighing in relief now. When Cas asked Dean to confirm he was still his, that was his way to say “please tell me I didn’t fuck up so bad that you won’t want to touch me ever again”. As if. Deep down, beyond all the bad feelings caused by Dean’s own fears and Samandriel’s cheating behavior, Dean knows Cas is just inherently too good and often forgets most people aren’t like that, and Dean can’t really say he’d like for Cas to be different or to change. Just like Cas loves and accepts all of Dean, Dean wouldn’t change a hair on Cas’s head.

Very much like they did with their clothes, Dean takes his time. His sour mood is slowly but surely ebbing away, and the more he does this, the more he fingers Cas open unhurriedly and gently – making sure to add lube as he adds a finger, looking for his sweet spot to brush softly against every few strokes, scissoring his fingers so there won’t be too much burning when Dean’s cock slides into him, all the while caressing his back with his left hand – the more a quiet calmness drapes over him, and thoughts and feelings of anything or anyone but this vanish from his mind and his heart. He starts peppering kisses on Cas’s shoulders and back, starts asking him how he’s doing, even asks him – no, demands – not to stifle his noises, but to let Dean hear every gasp, every sigh, every moan. Dean _needs_ to hear how good he – _only_ he – makes Cas feel.

“Ready?”

“Please.”

Closing his eyes shut tight is Dean’s instinctive response. Cas sure knows how to bring Dean to his knees – figuratively and, often, literally – with just one word.

As he’s lubing himself up, Dean realizes his hands are shaking slightly.

It certainly has something to do with how sensitive he is, his cock having hardened progressively as he watched his fingers thrust in and out of his boyfriend’s ass, his hole loosening its tightness as Dean gave it his attention, and his hips starting a rocking motion, a tell-tale sign Cas was chasing both the pleasure inside of his ass and the friction of the sheets against his own erection. But Dean’s ignored his hardening cock so far, and this is the first time his poor dick gets some attention.

It certainly has _a lot_ to do with how Dean’s lived their sex life recently though. The jumbled mess in his head these past weeks ended up taking away Dean’s confidence in bed. Just like with everything else, he started second guessing himself, wondering whether he was still enough for Cas, especially considering the premium quality twink competition. That meant that more often than not he wasn’t really focused on enjoying himself as much as on being as slutty and enticing as possible.

He doesn’t want that now. Yes, Cas’s pleasure is paramount. But so is Dean’s. He wants that tranquil familiarity back, the sense of belonging that comes from having sex with someone you’ve had sex with for years, someone you love and who loves you. That comforting certainty that no matter how the sex will be – rough, sweet, quick, slow, awkward, teasing, joyful – it’s something both partners do to share their love first and foremost.

After feeling like an outsider looking in for weeks, Dean wants to come home.

So he does.

Bending forward from where he was kneeling in between Cas’s spread legs, he supports himself with his left hand on the mattress next to his boyfriend’s head, while he grips his cock with his right hand and starts brushing its head against Cas’s hole, teasing him to help the muscles unclench even further. When he can’t take any more teasing himself, he slowly, gently pushes inside, a low, relieved moan leaving Cas’s lips when the head pops in and stretches him just right. From there, Dean keeps pushing steadily until his balls are flush against Cas’s hole, and only then carefully lies on top of his boyfriend, Dean’s front plastered to Cas’s back, until he can start lightly kissing Cas’s neck and inhale the familiar scent of his hair, while his hands take the scenic route through Cas’s arms until his fingers can lace with Cas’s under his pillow.

“Dean, please,” Cas begs.

“Please what?” Dean enquires softly, feigning ignorance and thoroughly enjoying the goosebumps his hot breath against Cas’s ear cause.

“Please move,” Cas replies, impatience and fondness mixing in his tone.

“Yeah?” Dean asks, his hips still unmoving, because he’s a huge shit like that apparently, “You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, yes, please,” Cas replies, trying to wiggle his ass enough to get Dean deeper and failing, with Dean’s body weight preventing him from moving too much.

“Because you only want _me_ to fuck you, Cas, don’t you?” Dean asks, and Cas tenses for the first time since Dean’s first finger touched his hole, recognizing Dean’s question for what it is – a request for reassure rather than rhetorical dirty talk.

“Yes,” he tries to turn his head, surely to look at Dean’s face, but Dean stills his movement with his own head, pressing his nose down into Cas’s heavenly smelling hair even more. It’s still too soon. Dean can’t look Cas in the eye, not yet. “Yes, love, only you, only ever you,” Cas hastens to reassure, resigned that Dean won’t let him move.

Dean knew he needed to hear those words said out loud by Cas’s gravelly voice, but he hadn’t realized the effect they’d have on him. The sheer relief he’d feel, as if a ten million pound weight had been lifted off of his chest all of a sudden and his lungs had been able to properly expand for the first time in forever.

Cas only ever wants him. _Of course_ he does.

“Yeah? You want my cock, Cas?”

“I need it, love, I need your cock,” Cas says right away, squirming again beneath Dean, a little desperation seeping into his voice, “please, Dean.”

“You need it?” Dean checks, because all of a sudden teasing his gorgeous boyfriend is all he wants. He’s already started slowly rolling his hips though. Teasing is fun, but if Cas needs it that badly right now, Dean won’t deny him.

“Yes, god, yes, please,” Cas says, or Dean thinks he says. His words are far less coherent than they were a moment ago. His noises have become loud and clear instead, ever since the rolls of Dean’s hips have started. He’s also gripping Dean’s hands tightly, as if he was trying to make sure Dean won’t get far. Dean really doesn’t want to.

“You feel so good, baby. So tight,” god but Cas’s hole is better than anything else in the world.

“Yeah? You like being inside me?” Cas goads.

“God, Cas, yeah, nothing better,” Dean confirms, because how he could not?

“Then give it to me like you mean it, Dean, fucking _own me_.”

Dean gasps. He knows what Cas is doing. He’s always liked it a bit rough, but it’s no coincidence he’s opted for that choice of words. He knows Dean needs reassurance, and he seems to need it just as badly, and he needs for the both of them to be reminded that no one owns Cas but Dean, and no one owns Dean but Cas. They chose each other years ago and they keep choosing each other, every day.

“You want it rough, Cas? Want to still feel me tomorrow?”

“Shit, yes, _please_.”

The wanton plead breaks Dean’s resolve. He groans, pulls out and flips his disoriented and squinting boyfriend over so he can enter him again and enjoy how Cas’s eyes widen momentarily and then shut tight while he moans.

“Yeah, babe, let me hear all the pretty noises I’m fucking out of you,” Dean can’t help but say, as he’s hooking Cas’s left knee in the crook of his right elbow. Dean loves taking Cas like this. This position opens him up completely and allows Dean to have a safe hold on his boyfriend no matter how hard he fucks into him.

As soon as he’s satisfied that he’s bottomed out and Cas can’t do anything but lie under him and take it like Dean wants to give it to him, he starts snapping his hips hard and fast like Cas asked him to do, and attacks his mouth. Fucking _finally_ , he can make out with his boyfriend while he fucks him.

The sounds of their bodies crashing against each other and their moans and cries and grunts and their panting are music to Dean’s ear, and only spur him to thrust harder and deeper. He knows he’s hitting Cas’s pleasure spot constantly fucking him like this, his wails are all the confirmation Dean needs.

Dean’s mouth has a mind of its own too, because it seems obsessed with kissing as much of Cas as it can. Dean’s mouth, too, needs reassurance that the soft lips of Dean’s boyfriend and the scratchy surface of his cheeks and neck are its to kiss and lick and nip.

When Dean starts worrying the skin of Cas’s neck between his teeth, his wicked boyfriend moans “Yeah, bite me, love, fucking _mark_ me,” making Dean go wild.

Cas isn’t a big fan of love bites and hickeys, but he wants it now, he wants it to be visible that he’s taken, that he’s Dean’s, and Dean couldn’t be happier to oblige.

Dean’s marking his neck and shoulder without restraint while he’s also pushing inside of him at a punishing pace must be sending Cas barreling toward his orgasm, because he sneaks a hand between their bellies and tries to grip his own cock, no doubt to start stroking himself to completion.

His hand doesn’t even make contact with his dick that Dean’s releasing Cas’s leg to be able to use that hand to keep himself upright while he uses the other to bat Cas’s hand away. “ _No_ ,” Dean says as he starts jerking Cas off himself, “this cock belongs to _me_ , like the rest of you”.

“Shit, _Dean_ ,” Cas moans at hearing him say that. Both of Cas’s legs have come to wrap around Dean’s hips in the meantime and his hands scramble to grab Dean’s shoulders now, while Dean redoubles his efforts to fuck and stroke him good so he’ll come, seeing as Dean’s _this_ close to shooting his load inside of him.

“Cas, going to-“

“Yeah, fuck, give me that come.”

Dean will _never_ tire of this slutty side of his otherwise proper and perfect boyfriend. When lost in the heat of the moment, Cas can get a mouth so filthy it can give professional whores on fleet week a run for their money. Dean will be forever thankful that _he_ ’s the one that makes this side of Cas want to come out and play.

“Shit, Cas, gonna fucking _fill you up_.”

Cas comes screaming, his climax literally fucked out of him by Dean’s words, and Dean follows a second later, fucking thankful to be finally able to let go. He collapses on Cas while he’s still coming and stays there for long moments afterwards, riding out his orgasm and thrusting inside of him with small, slow rolls of his hips until his dick gets oversensitive.

Once they’ve both stopped panting, Dean lifts his head and enjoys the view of his boyfriend sated face smiling back at him. They grin stupidly at each other and start kissing, slowly, unhurriedly, sweetly, just lips locking with lips while they enjoy the afterglow.

Until Dean breaks their kiss and says “Be right back,” while he nuzzles Cas’s nose. Cas clearly doesn’t like the idea though, because Dean has to fight to disentangle himself from the octopus-like hold of his boyfriend.

“C’mon, baby,” Dean says, trying not to laugh and failing spectacularly. “Gonna get something to clean us up.”

“Alright,” Cas sighs, as if he’s just agreed to the hardest of compromises. “But can you also grab one of our phones before you come back to bed?”

“A phone? What do you need it for?”

“To find us a new café for breakfast tomorrow.”


End file.
